Never Alone
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: The events of Final Lair as seen through the eyes of a young girl. Shameless Daddy/Daughter feels, fluff, and angst. Erik/Child OC


**Never Alone**

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Ophelia had always been a girl of a curious nature. From the time she could walk- toddling shakily on the streets of Paris as an orphan- the child had been an adventurous one. If there was something to be found, she would find it. Someplace to go, she would get there.

It had been said often by those who knew the pretty street urchin, that she could sense opportunities. Though she was only ten years old, the girl had a knack for taking care of herself. It was very rarely that she went without food, and she had long since found places to rest when the weather was too cold to stand the elements. Though this might not have seemed like much; any of the other unlucky homeless would have begged to differ. Ophelia was an independent child of the gutter, and she couldn't have been prouder of herself.

Currently, the ten year old walked the abandoned streets of Paris, as the silence of the world seemed to make everything much darker and serene than usual. Sleep had evaded the little one, due to nightmares, and she now wandered through her daily playground. Ophelia had never been afraid of the dark, and now she strolled happily through it. By the way the sky was beginning to grow lighter around the utmost edges, it would be dawn in an hour or so- and the girl was contented with exploring until then.

She walked past familiar shops and stalls, as she moved aimlessly against the cobbled stones that met her hardened bare feet. She paid no attention to where she was going, for she knew she would never truly be lost. And it was as she rounded yet another corner and was about to pass a large sewer grate, that Ophelia heard it. Yelling . . . distraught cries that seemed to shatter the very soul . . . and singing. . .

The child immediately stopped dead in her tracks, cocking her head to the side as she listened intently. At first, it seemed as if the sounds were something brought to life by her imagination alone. . . but then she heard it anew and realized that it was coming from within the sewers and underbelly of the great city. And Ophelia, being ever the inquisitive one, moved towards the entrance and scuttled through without a second thought.

There was no concern for her own safety, nor any hesitation as to what might be making the noise. Instead, the girl entered into the dank byway and began to creep further into the passages with her curiosity burning brightly in her chest. For a time, she wandered in the darkness, letting only her hearing and groping hands against the nearby wall aid her in her journey. . . Until, her mouth widened into a large 'o' and her eyes once more came into focus.

From out of the darkness a single light shone, and the child drew closer. As she walked towards it, Ophelia realized that the light was being blocked by a cloth cover of some sort. The girl quickly pushed the side of the cloth away so that she could peek behind it to see where the strange light and noise was coming from. Then, her breath caught in her throat. For the sight that met her tender eyes wasn't something she had ever expected to find.

Beyond the crimson drape that the girl hid behind, was a large and spacious cavern. There was a small lake at the edge where a slight mist swirled and frothed impatiently near a portcullis gate, and at least a hundred candles flickered from where they had been placed strategically all over the cave- making both shadow and light dance in perfect harmony. But it wasn't the surroundings that caught the little girl's eye, but rather the people that resided there.

A beautiful lady stood in a elegant bridal gown at the edge of the water, her face drawn into an expression of horror. A handsome blonde haired man stood within the lake, tied precariously to the foreboding looking gate, his eyes wide as he choked painfully against the rope that was currently wrapped around his neck. . . and then there was a monster.

Or at least, that was what Ophelia first thought as she looked upon the scene with disbelieving eyes. But it surprisingly wasn't the monster's deformed face that made the child afraid, but rather the inner demon that seemed to possess him as he strangled the other man, and ignored the pleas of the woman who stood upon the bank. His face was startling, that much was true. But it was his actions that made the little girl stay safely behind the curtain, and watch anxiously to see what would happen.

For several dreadful moments it seemed that the monstrous man would kill the other, until Ophelia heard him give the lady on the shoreline an ultimatum. Her love for the dying man's life. For a time the woman seemed unable to decide, bright tears falling from her deep brown eyes, before she too moved into the misty water.

Ophelia watched as the lady gently kissed the monstrous man and held onto him, and she gazed on in awe as the hideous countenance fell away from him. Slowly, as the woman showed the man tenderness, the monster of moments before disappeared; and in it's place stood a broken man.

As the lady finally pulled away from him, Ophelia found herself sad as she watched him begin to cry too. Then, he let the blonde man live- untying the death loop from around his neck, before crying at them to leave.

The little girl stood in shock as she watched the fair haired man and the woman turn away, and silently shook her head. It was wrong! All wrong! Why were they leaving the sad man alone? He obviously needed a friend, and they were going on without him!

The child was upset by the turn of events . . . before she realized that the lady had come back for a moment.

The man sang to her softly; telling her how much he loved her. And with an air of sorrow and bittersweetness, the woman placed a ring into the crying man's hand, before she once more turned to leave. And as the man stood to watch her float away with the fair haired gentleman, his voice grew powerful as he sang of the night, and the love of his life that had left him for good. Then as the man was finally left alone, he crumpled to the ground of the cavern, sobbing as if his heart was being ripped from his chest. . . . And it was more than the little girl could bare.

Finally, after re-finding her courage and ability to move, Ophelia quietly drew from behind the cloth cover over the secret entrance to the cavern and walked over to where the man slumped in anguish. For a long second she watched him with innocent eyes, before she did something that only a child could.

Without a word or a thought, the ten year old knelt down behind the man and wrapped her thin arms around him as far as they would go. The hug was caring and tender and Ophelia put her heart into it.

Immediately at the feeling of the girl's arms the man cringed, his body freezing up at the unexpected contact before he breathed, "C-Christine? . . . Have you returned to me?"

Ophelia shook her head, as she continued to hold onto the man tightly. "No, I'm Ophelia, Monsieur."

The man turned to look at her from the side; the shock and despair showing clearly in his bright blue-ish green eyes. In that moment he seemed frightened, as he reached up a hand to try and cover the deformed side of his face.

"Y-You must go at once! Why have you come to this place?" The words came out in a rich baritone voice, that was desperate and bordering on angry. But the girl ignored it, seeing as the things that will worry a grown-up never faze a child.

"I saw that you were alone, Monsieur," she replied, continuing to hug the alarmed and emotional man- placing one of her hands on his back and gently rubbing it. "And no one should be alone; especially when they are sad."

At this, the man laughed without humor, his whole body shaking as more tears fell down his tormented face. "You know nothing of life, child."

Ophelia frowned slightly. "I know that you are upset about the beautiful lady, and that she shouldn't have left you."

He looked at her with unreadable, teary green orbs. He seemed to think on her words, seeming somewhat surprised by what she had said and done, before a resigned and broken light shone through.

"You should go before the darkness swallows you, little one," he said. "This is no place for one such as you."

Ophelia's little button nose scrunched as she finally let go of the man. Without a thought she circled around to face him; standing in front of him to look at him curiously. He was still trying to cover his face, something that bothered the girl to no end.

"Why do you hide your face, Monsieur?"

The pain that rose in his eyes was almost horrible to witness, and the ten year old instantly cringed.

"It is not something that others should see," he said in a soft whisper. "It would frighten you. . . as it has all those who have looked upon it."

At this Ophelia gave him a little smile, once more surprising him. "But I've already seen it, Monsieur."

The expression of self loathing grew immediately on the man's face, but the child moved forward before he had time to react further. She wasn't afraid of him or his appearance, and she wanted him to know as much. So she did something completely on impulse, recalling how the lady's tenderness towards this man had made such a big difference.

She leaned in so that her little rounded face was close to his, and with gentle but quick hands she pulled his palm away from his deformity. Then before he could put it back, she placed a kiss to the disfigurement. It was the loving kiss that a child would give to her father, and though the contact was incredibly brief, it made warmth rise in the man's heart as he stared at her in wonderment as she pulled away from him.

Ophelia's eyes held no hesitation or revulsion; only affection, though how such a thing was possible was anyone's guess. Any normal person would have been disgusted or merely walked away, but the little girl had let her curiosity win out, and had opted to let her heart lead her to someone who was in need. She had seen past the outer mask, and had somehow been able to show him compassion. . .

The Phantom was silent for several long moments as he fought with the sorrow of losing Christine, and the hope that the child had just given him. It was so much, and yet somehow, the pain wasn't as great as it had been mere seconds before. It still felt crippling to the man, and would be thus for a long time to come he was drowning. . . Somehow, as the little one smiled at him, he couldn't help but feel as though he was standing underneath the sun's beaming rays. She was so light and free. Without hate or bias.

"What is your name, child?"

"Ophelia," came the easy answer. "What's yours?"

For a minute he hesitated. ". . . Erik . . ."

The ten year old once more wrapped her arms around him, as she nuzzled into him. "Don't worry Erik. I know that you're sad and need to cry, but I promise I won't leave you."

More tears formed in the Phantom's green eyes, before he slowly wrapped his own large arms around Ophelia, basking in the warmth the little girl emitted as he let his heartache overflow. Though he didn't have his Christine, he wasn't alone. And for that, Erik was truly grateful.

"T-Thank you, little one." He said hesitantly as he hugged her back. "Thank you."

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 **A/N:** Here's a gift I wrote for a dear friend of mine, who shares my phangirl obsession. She wanted something with her OC Ophelia and this story was born. We both figured the Phantom could use some more lovin. ^^

I honestly don't know where this came from other than the fact that I adore writing Father/Daughter relationships and I love fluff/angst combos. XD It's been quite a while since I wrote anything for Erik. . . I must say that it feels really good. 3 Hopefully he was in-character and everything worked out okay.

Love you guys!

 _ **~Lyn**_


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